


Matt Gets Rabies

by mymukemadness



Series: tense avengers [1]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Murder, Psychological Horror, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mymukemadness/pseuds/mymukemadness
Summary: Thread from a roleplay server in which Matt commits violence and gets rabies, Miles is traumatized, and Natasha has to clean up everyone's mess, as usual. Invite in the notes.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Natasha Romanov, Miles Morales & Matt Murdock, Miles Morales & Natasha Romanov
Series: tense avengers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161026
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Matt Gets Rabies

There was a weird bang, and sure, maybe it was a poor choice to go chasing after it, but really, had Miles ever made wise choices? No, and he wasn't about to start now. The adults were busy with Fisk anyway, it was best for him to make sure nothing was going on. 

He ran into the hallway that the noise came from. Aha, so the adults were not dealing with Fisk. Because he was right in front of Miles, glaring at the SWAT team around him. One of them was on the ground, covered in blood, and he wasn't completely sure they were still alive.

Before he could run away or turn invisible, Fisk had grabbed him. He might have said something, but Miles wasn't sure. He struggled in Fisk's grip, hoping to get away without getting fucking killed. No luck. Oh god, was one of the goons gonna shoot him? He didn't want to die.

Matt was following the cologne, and he was almost there. He then caught a whiff of something that made his heart jump into his throat. Miles. Fuck. Okay, okay. He reached his senses forward to hopefully disprove his assumption. Nope. Wilson had the kid. 

He had to handle this carefully. He doubted Fisk had any qualms over killing a child, especially if it was to hurt him. 

"I know you're out there, Murdock." SHIT. "I have a little spider. Is he yours? If you come out, I might let him have an open casket funeral." He wasn't lying. Matt stepped out from behind the wall, clubs in hand.

"Put him down." Obviously, he wouldn't, but it never hurt to ask. Fisk let out a chuckle. 

"We both know I'm not leaving here alive. Still, I'd like to leave you with a gift. So who will it be? Me, or him?"

"What?" What? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Whose death are you going to be responsible for today, Murdock?" Fisk tightened his grip on Miles.

Oh. Oh. He. Oh.

Oh, thank god. Matt was here. Wait, haha, was he about to die? Fisk was gonna kill him? Miles tried to pull himself together, to venom blast Fisk and get away. It was just... really hard. He wasn't focused and he was so tired already. Maybe he really would die.

Miles was on the ground before he even realized that Fisk had dropped him. He let out a cry as Fisk stepped on his leg. Holy fuck, that hurt. God. Miles wasn't sure if he was making noise, but he thought he might have been. He feebly pushed himself towards the wall, trying to get space between him and the fight. God, he wanted to go home.

His leg. Fisk snapped it like a toothpick. Matt saw red. This was it. He was done with Fisk playing with him. Done with him hurting everyone he cared about, with his destruction of the city. He shot towards Fisk at a practically inhuman speed, ramming his shouldering his side to get him off of Miles. Fisk seemed surprised, which afforded Matt an opportunity. Without a second thought, he jammed his thumbs into Fisk's eyes and pushed. 

Squelch.

Miles blinked. Oh. He was dead. Goddamn. He had kind of known that it was going to happen but he didn't expect it right then. Miles stared at Matt and Fisk. It felt like he was unable to look away, even though he probably should have.

Matt paused for a moment, taking in his work. Fisk didn't even have time to yell. There was a disgusting fleshy wet warmth around his thumbs, and the air choked him with copper. Wait, did he do that? No, he had almost killed Fisk before. He was still breathing, albeit staggered. He was in shock, not dead. Couldn't have that. That's not what they came here to do. 

After a moment of deliberation, Matt carefully pulled his hands away from Fisk's face. Disgusting, as if they weren't already. Matt pulled a hand back as if to strike Fisk but decided against it, lowering it to his side. Matt could hurt him more, but Fisk was already in shock. He would die soon enough from the blood loss, and Matt wanted him to suffer even a fraction of what he had inflicted on others, so he would wait. Watch his brain drown in his own blood.

He could feel the adrenaline rush leaving his body and he dropped to his knees, almost mirroring Fisk. His head felt filled with cotton. Was this even real, or just some sick dream? He honestly couldn't tell at this point. In some sort of way, this was funny. Fisk was blind. He was dying on the floor, undignified, not the God among men he wanted to be. It was hysterical, so Matt started to laugh. It started as a giggle but quickly evolved into choked wheezes. He thinks he might be crying at this point. He had no idea why. Maybe he was finally having a psychotic break. Seemed appropriate.

Miles finally tore his eyes away from the two men as Matt started to laugh. God, this was bad. 

Someone was screaming, he realized. Oh. It was him. Miles shoved a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see the bodies on the ground or the blood on his suit.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. His leg hurt and he didn't want to freak Matt out more. Maybe he would just sit here and rest. Yeah, that seemed good.

Natasha finally felt like everything was under control. The numbers of guards were dwindling, and her body felt like it was a rag doll at this point. She just wanted this all to be over. Fisk was gone, but he couldn't have gone far. Matt had gone to go track him down, and she promised herself she would go check as soon as she felt like things were stable- as stable as they could be right now, at least. 

A series of distinct banging noises came from the room over, different from the gunshots that they had been dodging before. Must have been a turning point, because everything went wrong from there. Sam was on the ground, his face was bruised and bloody along with his goggles being cracked. He seemed to have a nasty wound on his abdomen. Itsy was also on the ground, his leg going a direction that didn't look at all natural. She didn't notice at first, but Bitsy had gotten away too. Shit.

Natasha immediately tapped into her earpiece. "We need two teammates removed, immediately- one in critical condition, the other with a visible broken bone." The sound came from the same direction Matt had gone, and she needed to find Miles. 

It had taken her a few minutes to track them down and defending herself along the way. But what sounded like Matt laughing and Miles screaming, it gave her a big clue. Natasha finally got to them and...

Oh. Oh no.

Matt's hands were bloody. Fisk was oddly still and breathing irregularly in what she assumed was his blood. Miles was sitting on the ground and his leg mirrored his double's.

The silence and stillness was the most uncomfortable part. 

With shaky hands, Natasha checked Fisk's pulse, trying to not acknowledge what his face was made into. It was weak, not a pulse he could live on. Once again she contacted extraction. 

"We need to go, Murdock." Natasha said quietly, an unpleasant familiarity to how he probably felt. 

She had been avoiding looked at Miles. "I'm sorry."

"We need to go, Murdock." Matt's hysterics cut off abruptly. Who was... Natasha. Natasha was here. Why? Fisk. He killed Fisk. Holy shit, he killed Fisk. He let out another choked giggle. Get it together. Time to get up. Natasha can take care of the rest.

On shaking limbs Matt rises from the floor, head still tilted towards Fisk. He realizes how inappropriate the almost painfully wide grin on his face is and tries to school it into the usual indifference with mixed results. 

Wait. Miles. Where is Miles? On the floor. His leg is broken. It's bad but clean; should heal with no issues. Good. He can quite literally smell the fear radiating from him. Fair. Natasha also seems nervous which, coming from her, speaks volumes about what he had done. What had he done again? He uh. Oh. Fisk. Yeah, that. Okay. Alright. He should probably say something. Convince him he was okay, not injured, not losing his fucking mind. He got about as far as a deep inhale before he gave up trying. He forced himself to stop "looking" at Fisk, head tilting towards Natasha as a show of attention.

Ms. Natasha. Thank god. Wait, why was she apologizing? Oh well, not important. Miles pulled his hand away from his face, trying to get his shit together. He forced himself to stand up, letting out a whimper as he did so. Fuck, his leg hurt.

His mind raced as he realized what had just happened. Fisk was dead, he thought. And it was going to happen either way, but he still felt like it was his fault. 

"The others okay?" Miles whispered. Shit, he should have paid attention. He shouldn't have left them. He should have been better. And now Ms. Natasha was going to be mad at him for lying about staying out of the way. "Uh, sorry, by the way. Didn't mean to get in the middle."

She took in the scene a bit more, against every cell in her body wanting to not process what she was seeing. Matt clearly wasn't okay, he kept laughing. He wasn't stable, this wasn't what they had planned. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. 

Natasha's chest panged with guilt and regret. She shouldn't have let Matt go alone. If she had found them sooner she could have taken care of it. Natasha almost reached out to touch Matt on the shoulder, or just do anything to try and comfort him but she figured that wasn't the best idea right now, putting her hand back at her side. The medics will take care of him, she thought. He'll be okay. He has to be okay.

She forced herself to look at Miles when he spoke. "Sam wasn't looking great the last time I saw him. Mi-" Natasha stopped herself. "Itsy looks like he broke a leg. They should have been picked up by now. Everyone else is fine." As soon as she said the word "everyone", even more guilt filled Natasha's consciousness. Everyone wasn't okay. 

"You don't need to apologize," Natasha replied, her gaze averted again from his back onto the floor. Her body felt incredibly heavy, unsure if it was because of the fighting or the regret piling on her body like boulders. 

Inhaling a breath she hoped Miles didn't notice, Natasha tried to build her exterior back up. Can't worry right now. Push it back down.

"You shouldn't be standing. Do you need me to carry or support you until SHIELD gets to us?" she asked Miles.

Natasha was worried. He would try to assuage her fears but even thinking about doing anything besides following orders made his head spin. If he let himself think too much right now he would lose it, and Miles didn't deserve to have to see that. Just don't think about it. Just don't think about it.

Natasha wouldn't touch him. Was it because she was considerate of his emotional distress or because she was scared of him? He couldn't tell, but either way, the pit in his stomach was growing. Just stand still. Don't think. Wait.

Miles avoided looking at Matt or Ms. Natasha. He didn't know what to say and neither of them seemed super okay. He was fine. They would be fine. They just needed to go and then someone would help with his leg and it would be fine. 

He nodded in response to Natasha. Itsy broke a leg. Fucking. It was his fault, he decided. Mr. Sam's injuries were also his fault, he just wasn't sure how to justify that yet.

With a shrug, Miles realized he was crying. Humiliating. He blinked, trying and failing to stop himself. It just... hurt. And people were injured and... dead and that was on him. And Matt and Ms. Natasha were acting weird and it was his fault. He just wanted to go back to before these stupid robberies had started. Back to before all of it. Too late, Miles realized he hadn't replied.

"'M fine. Not a big deal," he managed, leaning against the wall. They would know he was lying, but honestly what else could he do?

"It is a big deal, whether you're fine or not. Standing could have one of the bones impale the skin, and that's a lot harder for them to fix." Natasha came over to Miles, lifting his arm to go over her shoulders. "Sorry, kiddo. No choice." 

Her muscles were on fire, but she didn't care. It was the least she could do for him. Looking over to Matt, she wasn't sure what she could do for him. At least for Miles, it was physical, mostly. Natasha didn't know how to help what he was going through and that hurt her more than her tired limbs. 

There were footsteps outside. Voices. For a second she tenses again, but then she realized it was SHIELD. Thank God, they were finally done with this bullshit for now, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join for more "fun"!
> 
> https://discord.gg/tf7WMZBW5U


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